Dear, sweetest Eos,* of the speckled breast,
High on the pliant bough, or grassy blade,
Or hopping gay, on beds by Flora drest,

Or rustling in the currant's humbler shade.

Oft have I heard thee hail the dawning day,
Delighted listen'd to thy matin theme;

As blaz'd on Arvon'st top, the orient ray,
Or Evening, westward, led the lingering beam.

* The word Eos (Nightingale) has always been used by the Bards, as the organ of harmony in the language of Metaphor, thus Rhys Góch of Glyndwrdwy, in the Ode in which he invokes the sun to shine genially on Glamorgan, for sheltering Owen Glyndwr, in the decline of his power, and last years says→→

"A minna sydd yn nydd a nôs,

"I nai Owen yn Eos."

I, that am night and day,

To Owen's nephew a Nightingale.

And Owen Gryffydd, in his Elegy on Hugh Morris (the Cam brian Butler) calls him Eos Awen, the Poetic Nightingale; and another has the beautiful line

"Eos a linos y llwyn,

Nightingale and Goldfinch of the Grove.

+ Mountains east of Penrhos.

To cheer the hidden partner of thy heart,
As o'er her care the wings* maternal bend;
Or teach thy infant brood th' enchanting art,
With all a parent's pride thy carols tend.

And pleasure riots in thy radiant eye,

As shrill in air the dulcet triumph floats; How beats thy little heart, with raptures high, When Stanley listens to thy grateful notes.

Still when her bounty brings the hoarded crumbs, Where o'er thy nest the glossy ivy's curl'd;

Does Fancy hear thee chirrup sweet-" she comes "With looks that wish the welfare of a world."

By thee unheard the Raven's hated scream,
That wrung of yore the poet's boding breast;

"* Ai phlu yn gysgod iw phlant."

Her children sheltered by her feathers.

"Fy nghalon a gryn rhag erchlais y vrân."

The hideous raven scream that wrung my soul.

Thus Gay, without a possibility of Plagiarism :

"That raven on yon left-hand oak, ("Curse on his ill-betiding croak)

Periv.

"Bodes me no good."

When Superstition form'd the unborn theme,*
And gave, even Horror's self, a darker vest.

To thee unknown, lov'd warbler of the wood,
Though Mona's plaintive Muse the tale has told,
That here the margin of the briny flood,
Was redden'd with the life of warriors bold.

That here fell Discord wav'd her banners high,
Saw kindred hands in kindred blood imbru’d;

"* Yn y Penrhyn uwch Penrhos.”

On Penrhyn above Penrhos.

Periv.

The spot here meant, is the cliff projecting into the sea, about a quarter of a mile east of the Mansion, which has been for many centuries, the residence of the family of Owen, descended from one of the five sons of Hwva ap Cynddelw, Lord of Llivon, represented by Lady Stanley, Hwva was cotemporary with Owen Gwynedd, Prince of North Wales. His great Chamberlain, founded one of the fifteen tribes, and generally resided at Presaddved: his five sons inherited his princely property, extending from Aberffraw to Holyhead, and including a great part of the interior of Anglesey. The whole Island being at that period divided between this Chieftain, Llowarch ap Brân, Lord of Menai, Carwed, Lord of Twrcelyn, Cadrod Hardd, Lord of Talybolion, and the representative of Gweryd ap Rhys Gôch.

While Cambria saw the conflict with a sigh,
As o'er the field her fallen sons were strew'd.

As o'er the field her slaughter'd offspring lay,
She heard in Sorrow's strains, her Periv* tell,
That in the fury of that fatal day,

Her princely bard, her tuneful Howel† fell.

*Periv ap Cadivor, a Bard of 1160; the British quotations under his name, are from his Ode to Howel, one of the sons of Owen Gwynedd, who was at once a warrior and a warbler-and generally mentioned in history as having fallen in battle-it is matter of regret to the lovers of British literature, that there appears in the ample Volume of the "Bards of Britain," lately given to the world by Mr. Owen Jones, of London, but one performance of the plaintive Periv, pleasing and instructing as he is.

† Upon the death of Owen Gwynedd, Prince of Wales, his sons contended for dominion (the eldest Jorwerth, having been set aside on account of a personal blemish) the conflict alluded to here, was between David and Howel, in which David was victorious, and Howel fell.-Howel was a poet of intelligence and ability, several poems written by him on different subjects, appear in the collection above mentioned, and the line" Yn naear vranar Vangor," proves that he was conveyed to Bangor for interment, and the inducing reason probably was, the inhumation of his father in that Cathedral.

A happier day, dear chorister,* is thine,
A grove unhaunted by the tread of Fear;
A little forest, free from Kites and crime,
When music only meets thy listening ear.

Save when the Demon of the boisterous North,†

Rush'd through the gloom of night with sullen roar,

Led from Destruction's den the Furies forth,
To roll his dying victims on the shore.

"Twas thine amid the raging of the storm,
To see thy Stanley disappoint the grave;
Tread the dread beach in Charity's mild form,
And bid her Penrhôs ope' its doors to save.

«* Gyr i Dduw ar gerdd a wyr,

66

Groyw-iaith a 'i big i 'r awyr."

He chirrups, looking to the sky,

A well-known language loud and high.

Dap G.

+ During the tremendous gales from this point, in January and February 1802, the Die Liebe, a Dutch galliot, bound from Rotterdam to Ireland-and the Brothers, of Liverpool, were wrecked near Penrhòs, the first at midnight, where the unfortunate sufferers found all the comfort and attention which beneficence, united to affluence, can so happily bestow.